Roidlocke
by Amilla Evelan
Summary: White is shocked and terrified when she is chosen to participate in the 74th Hunger Games. However, something bigger is brewing, centering around her strange fellow tribute N. Based on Pokemon White.
1. Chapter 1

ROIDLOCKE

Chapter One: Reaping

**AN: HEY GUYS, THIS IS WHAT'S GONNA BE EATING UP MY TIME FROM NOW ON. It's also partially the reason why my Percy Jackson story died.**

**Now, just for the record, this is a Pokémon and Hunger Games crossover. Most of you are thinking something along the lines of _"Ya don't say?" _BUT I feel the need to clarify this. There will be aspects of the Hunger Games, and there will be aspects of Pokémon, but this is not going to be a "Hey let's take the Hunger Games and plug in the characters from Pokémon and have the exact same storyline!" No. If you want that, go read another fanfiction. Granted, it will follow HG pretty closely for the first chapters, but things start taking a different turn pretty quickly. -End Rant-**

**And now, ENJOY THE ROIDLOCKE (if you want to know where the title came from, I'M NOT TELLING YOU. Yet. I'll tell you later. Because I like suspense. But if you can figure it out yourself, kudos).**

**Disclaimer: I'm only saying this once. I don't own Pokémon or Hunger Games. Have a nice day.**

The day of the Reaping dawned bright and sunny, but I was out the door before the first rays had broken the horizon. On a normal day, even at this early hour, the streets were teeming with coal miners and the occasional Machop or Geodude, wearily making their way down to the mines for another long day of work. Today, however, was a day off, as it was for the entirety of District 12 and all of Panem. Might as well sleep in, as the Reaping wasn't until two.

Under a minute of walking brought me to the Meadow, a scruffy little field lying on the edges of the Seam, the part of the district in which most of the poorest coal mining families lived. My mother and I lived just a few houses away from the Meadow, so I almost always entered the woods from there. There was a conveniently placed weak spot in the chain-link fence that nobody had bothered to fix, and it was the perfect entrance into the woods beyond the district. One nice thing about our district is that it was so poor that even the ones in charge let you break the law, so long as it put some fresh meat on the table. We were lucky to get electricity for a few hours in the evening, meaning that the supposedly electric fence was dead most of the time. Even so, I listened carefully for the telltale hum that meant it was live. When greeted by silence, I slipped under the fence and struck a course out into the woods.

I quickly retrieved my bow and quiver of arrows from the hollow log where my father kept his hunting supplies. After his death, I had taken special care with them, because I was awful at making my own. The few times I had tried ended in disaster.

A sudden rustling sound made me freeze in place. Listening carefully, I slowly turned in the direction of the noise, silently drawing an arrow from the quiver and fitting it into the string. Carefully, carefully, I made my way towards the noise, making as little sound as possible as my eyes darted around, searching for the source. A little meat is always nice, and it's also a good idea to get rid of any predators stalking you before they scare away all the game. Even better is a deer, whose meat can feed a family for days.

I edged towards the noise until I could see it through a tangle of branches. I caught my breath in excitement. It was definitely a deer, and a nicely sized one at that. Silently, I pulled back the arrow, taking careful aim through a gap in the trees.

Suddenly, the deer turned its head and stared directly at me with intelligent eyes. I sucked in my breath in shock, almost choking. For the movement of the deer's head gave me an excellent view of the bush of green foliage sprouting off its antlers. _No. It can't be._ Not breaking eye contact, I slowly edged around, trying to get a closer view at the strange creature.

"And just what do you plan to do with that?"

I jumped, uttering a small yelp of surprise as the owner of the voice materialized next to me with a smug grin on his face. In a second, the strange deer was gone, leaving only a few rustling branches behind. I whirled on the offender. "Seriously, Cheren? What was that all about?" I demanded.

The black-haired boy grinned, leaning against a nearby tree. "Well, what are you going to do with it? You can't go dragging a deer around, not on Reaping day with all the upped security and Capitol people swarming everywhere-"

"I wasn't going to shoot it," I snapped, annoyed.

"Well then what were you going to do? Keep it as a pet? Catch it in a pokéball?" Cheren snorted.

"Maybe I was! Seriously, Cheren, I think that was a Pokémon!"

He studied me with disbelieving eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, White. You know that Pokémon haven't been seen in the wild for decades. _Especially _not since that little _incident_ ten years ago…"

I sighed, exasperated. "Well, let me know the next time you see a regular old deer with a bush growing out of its head," I snapped. "What if it means something? Like, the Pokémon are coming back, and the Capitol's power is disintegrating and can't hold back their return, stuff like that."

Cheren stared for a moment, then burst out laughing. I cracked a smile myself. I did sound pretty ridiculous, with all the "What does it mean?" crap. I started chuckling as well as I remembered one year with a tribute who chugged cactus juice in the desert, causing him to go crazy with hallucinations and start ranting about a double rainbow that conveniently appeared in the sky.

Cheren shook his head, still chuckling to himself. "Well, nothing really we can do about it. Black's waiting in the glade for us. Said he brought a surprise. You coming?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute. I just want to look around here a second."

"Well, I'll see you later then," with that, Cheren turned and disappeared into the woods. I waited a moment, then made my way into the small clearing where the deer-thing and been. I knelt down and inspected the ground, eyeing the prints it had left in the soft ground. It was definitely deer-like, but there were distinct differences, especially in the size of the prints. _Not to mention the bush on its head, _I thought to myself.

Pokémon used to roam the wild freely, or so they tell us in school. The Capitol had all but annihilated them after the Dark Days, and scoured the wild again after the rebellion scare ten years ago. There were still Pokémon in districts, the species depending on the industry and the ones that would improve production the most. However, even those were treated as less than slaves, forever being kept in overcrowded pens and forced to work alongside the district's residents. The most popular use of the remaining Pokémon was in the Hunger Games, and even then most tributes treated them as disposable tools. The Capitol kept strict regulations on the use of Pokémon, and if word got out that they were appearing in the wild…

I sighed and shook my head. Even if it was a Pokémon, there really wasn't any point dwelling on it, I told myself. Pokémon returning after their seventy-plus year absence wasn't going to put any food on the table. If anything, it would bring on a Capitol crackdown, and probably the repairing of the electric fence, which none of us could afford.

By the time I reached the glade where Black and Cheren were waiting, I had pushed the strange deer-thing to the back of my mind. When he saw me emerging from the woods, Black gave a shout and stood up. "Well, look who finally decided to show up!" he calls with an easy grin. Black is my cousin, and one of my closest friends at that. It was thanks to his and his family's help that I was able to feed my mother and I after my father was killed in an uprising after-

No. I'm not thinking about that right now.

I force a grin on my face. "Hey, Black. What's this surprise that Cheren told me about?"

Black's face brightened. "You won't believe what I got ahold of!" he said excitedly, digging around in his pack. Triumphantly, he pulled out a loaf of bread and waved them around enthusiastically.

I gasped and snatched it out of his hands. "Oh my gosh, is this for real?" I inhale deeply, revering the fresh, mouth-watering aroma. This was high-quality bakery bread, not the ugly, dense loaves we bake from our measly grain rations.

"I only traded a squirrel for it. I think the baker was feeling particularly nice," Black said proudly. "Figured we might as well have something nice today," he added, a little more serious.

He was right, of course. We might as well have something nice before we all gathered in the square to hear the names of the boy and girl who would be snatched from their families and carted to their deaths this year. I force another grin onto my face, trying to swallow down the nausea that always plagued me on Reaping days. "Well, I saw a nice patch of berries back there. Let's really treat ourselves," I offered.

Black seized onto my idea enthusiastically, carefully wrapping the loaf back into his pack before bounding back into the woods. Cheren sighed and pulled himself to his feet. "I'll be by the stream if you need me. I'm going to try out a new trap I made," he says. I nod, then turn back into the woods.

The three of us, when working together, make an excellent hunting-and-gathering team. Cheren was brilliant with traps, Black had a knack for finding edible plants and berries, and I had my bow. While we each could manage to feed our families perfectly well on our own, we preferred to work together and learn from each other's skills. Over time, we all became very close friends.

After about fifteen minutes of hunting and no luck, I head back to the clearing. Black is back, with a large helping of berries and a few basil leaves he carefully arranges on each slice of bread. Cheren is back as well, as it only takes a few minutes to set up his traps.

The three of us settle back into a nook in the rocks, enjoying our little feast. The day is glorious, and would truly be perfect if this was really a day off, and we didn't have to be in the square at two waiting to hear the names. Again I have to swallow the nausea which washes over me stronger than before.

Cheren must have noticed that I was a little green around the gills, because he leaned over and says, "Having anxiety again?"

I swallow heavily and nod. I've had problems with the Reaping since I was first entered at twelve. Even though I somewhat resented my mother for leaving me alone in her "dark world of sadness" after my father died, I still cared for her and knew she would never recover if I died, especially if it was televised live for the world to see. I knew that Black and Cheren would keep an eye out for her, make sure she was fed, but I remembered all too well how she had fared when my father had died. She had shriveled up, and it scared me to think of what would happen if I was lost too. I also knew that I probably wouldn't stand much of a chance in the Games. I was way too…_nice._

Black put a hand on my knee and looked me straight in the eye. "Remember, White, there are still thousands of slips. Even with your name in twelve times, the odds are _ever _in your favor," he says, mimicking Effie Trinket, the ridiculously upbeat Capitol woman who comes once a year to read off the names of the year's tributes. I can't help but smile. The Capitol accent is so affected, almost anything sounds funny in it.

Too soon, we have to head back to the district. Cheren had snagged a dozen fish with his new trap, and we had gathered almost a gallon of strawberries. We swung by the Hob on our way back home to trade away our wares.

The three of us were well known and liked here, and we quickly traded six of the fish for some fresh bread and another two for salt. Once we finished our business in the Hob, we stopped by the mayor's house, knowing he and his family had a particular fondness for strawberries.

It was the mayor's daughter, Bianca, who answered the door. Black immediately straightened and started combing his fingers through his hair, trying to make himself look more presentable. I rolled my eyes. It was a poorly-kept secret that Black had a huge crush on her, and if I wasn't mistaken she liked him too. Bianca completed our little circle of friends while we were at school, even if she didn't join us in the woods and would be completely hopeless at hunting and gathering. She had latched onto me at an early age, and she eventually grew on Black and Cheren as well.

Bianca brightened when she saw who it was. "Oh, hello, Hilbert!" She said cheerfully. She was one of the few people that Black let call him by his first name. Black and I almost always went by our last names, since our first names, Hilbert and Hilda, were almost painfully similar. I suppose our mothers, who were sisters, had found it funny at our birth, but as I got older I found it anything but. I started going by my last name, and before long Black had started doing the same. Even so, Bianca insisted to call us by our first names anyway. Black didn't have any problem with it, but I, on the other hand…

"Hello to you too, Hilda," Bianca greeted, beaming cheerfully. I winced.

"Come on, Bianca, you know I don't like that name."

"Awwww," she pouted. "But it's so pretty!"

I just shrugged. I knew, after knowing Bianca for years, that there was no point in arguing with her about this. Cheren cleared his throat. "Nice outfit," he says, gesturing to Bianca's clean white skirt, orange vest, and lime green hat.

Her cheerful demeanor becomes a bit more suspicious. He's right, it _is _a nice outfit, one that is usually saved for the Reaping. However, Cheren has always been the least friendly towards her, bitter about her higher place in society.

"Well, I want to look nice if I go to the Capitol, don't I?" she says carefully. Now it's Cheren's turn to be confused as to if she meant it or is she was just messing with him. Black and I exchanged a look.

"You won't be going to the Capitol, Bianca, there's no need to worry!" Black said with forced cheerfulness. But the carefree mood is gone now, and we quickly finish our trade and make our way back home.

After a few moments of silence, I said, "You know, you don't need to take a dig at Bianca all the time. It's not her fault things are the way they are."

"I know," Cheren says bitterly, "It just frustrates me, that's all."

After another few minutes of walking, we said our goodbyes, split today's earnings, and head home. I push open the door to find my mom all ready to go, dressed in a fine dress from her apothecary days. She's carefully arranging something on my bed. I walk up to find it's another one of her dresses, a pretty black one with electric blue trim. It looks like it's been worn a fair amount, but it's still in good shape.

"It's an old dress of mine that's been passed down my family for generations," she says quietly. "I don't know where it came from originally, but I thought it would look nice for the…occasion."

I'm a little surprised at this. My mother and I haven't had much interaction after my father's death, especially as I got older and more independent. I was five when my father died, and Black's family had essentially taken care of me and fed me and my mom until I was able to hunt and gather myself. Black's father had taught me how to use my father's old bows, at least until he was killed in a tragic mine explosion.

This had brought Black and I closer than ever. We had similar names, similar appearances, and now we both lacked a father as well. I did my best to keep out of the house at all times, only coming home to bring food for my mother to cook and feed us. Even so, I still worried about her. I didn't want to lose the only parent I had left, even if we weren't really close at all.

And now, out of the blue, she was letting me wear one of her old dresses. A family heirloom at that. I felt strangely touched, and bathed and changed quickly. She even took the time to do my hair, leaving most of it down and braiding the rest into a half-French braid.

I hardly recognized the girl I saw in the cracked mirror. I even felt halfway beautiful, an unusual feeling for me.

At one o'clock, we headed out to the square. My mom wrapped me up tightly in a hug before taking a place among the adults surrounding the square.

All right. Now _that _was weird. I could help but think that maybe she could sense something, like maybe she had some kind of instinct that the unthinkable might happen.

I felt my stomach plunge at the thought. I swallowed, but the sick, roiling feeling refused to go away. Shaking slightly, I made my way to a knot of fifteen-year-olds that were also from the Seam. I hated that the Reaping made me feel like this, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.

By the time Black joined me with the other fifteen year olds, I was shaking like a leaf. "You okay?" he whispered. I shrugged, afraid that if I opened my mouth everything that I had eaten recently would come spewing out. He put his arm around my shoulder comfortingly as the mayor and Effie Trinket took two of the three seats on the stage. To either side of them, large glass balls held thousands of slips of paper bearing the names of all the boys and girls between ages twelve and eighteen. Twelve of them had my name on it in careful handwriting. Even though Black was right earlier, the chances _are _pretty slim, my stomach was roiling worse than usual and I felt a little lightheaded.

As soon as everyone was in the square, the mayor cleared his throat and began. It was the same story every year. He told about the rise of Panem after the crushing natural disasters, a shining Capitol surrounded by thirteen districts, blah blah blah.

I took the time to take deep breaths to calm myself as he continued to describe the Dark Days, when the thirteen districts rose up against the Capitol, using the power of their caught Pokémon to try to overthrow the government. Twelve were defeated, the thirteenth razed to the ground, and any and all wild Pokémon were obliterated or brought into the Capitol under strict control. The Treaty of Treason brought in new laws and regulations, regarding both Pokémon use and putting in place the Hunger Games as a reminder that those days must never be repeated.

The rules of the Hunger Games were relatively simple. In punishment for the uprising, each district had to send a boy and a girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen, called tributes, to participate. They were trained for a week, then given a starter Pokémon and released into an arena to battle to the death. If they chose, they could catch more Pokémon to help them, and used their Pokémon's power to help them defeat the other tributes.

That is, until ten years ago. A boy, just twelve years old, had been entered into the Games. He turned out to be absolutely brilliant at training Pokémon, and raised one of the toughest teams the arena had ever seen. He had won the Games, but he had not wanted to give up his Pokémon team to be frozen into a museum like all the other victor's Pokémon had. Instead, he had ordered his Pokémon to destroy the hovercraft that was sent to retrieve him and disappeared in the chaos that followed. His actions almost sparked a second rebellion, with uprisings in almost all the districts that the Capitol quickly crushed.

I shuddered at the memory. I was only five at the time, but I still remembered running out on the streets amid the smoke, fire, and shouting. I remembered screaming for my father, and watching as a fireball launched by the Capitol's soldiers consumed him, leaving nothing for us even to bury.

The mayor did not go into detail with the whole boy-almost-causing-rebellion thing. The Capitol had made sure that nobody mentioned it, and had never shown any video of that particular Hunger Games and refused to even allow his name to be mentioned in the official records. However, I still remembered the name that was screamed on the streets of the district in the night, as the people of my district tried to rebel. I swallowed and tried to focus on the speech, as not to be consumed by the awful memories.

The mayor went on, outlining the further measures the Capitol took to prevent future uprisings. Now the rules of the Games were changed. Instead of catching Pokémon in a wide-open arena, it had become something of a journey, in which there were different areas and environments that the tribute had to go through until they reached the end, meaning the tributes had to learn to survive in many environments. Pokémon were still involved, but they had been engineered so that if they fainted in battle, they immediately died, instead of in the past when it was possible to revive them. They also made it so that a tribute could only catch one new Pokémon in each new area. These new rules were designed so that no one tribute or Pokémon team could become strong enough to challenge the Capitol again.

After that long, boring speech, he lists the past District 12 victors. In the seventy-four years the Games had been running, there have been exactly two. Only one was still alive. His name is Alder, who at this moment staggers onto the stage, shouts something unintelligible, and falls into a chair. He's obviously drunk - very much so. The crowd answers with scattered applause, as is expected. Even so, he's still confused and tries to hug Effie, who is barely able to fend him off as he practically smothers her.

The mayor, distressed, tries to pull the attention back to the Reaping. He knows that District 12 is probably the laughingstock of Panem right now. He says a few more words and hands the microphone off to Effie, who looks glad to have a chance to escape from Adler's drunken touchiness.

Bubbly as ever and looking ridiculous with her four-inch heels and bright pink hair, Effie trots to the podium and gives her signature "May the odds be _ever _in your favor" spiel. I desperately pray that she is right, that the odds _are _in my favor, because my stomach can hardly take another minute of this nauseous feeling before I lose my lunch in front of everybody.

Her pink hair bounces as she talks about how it's such an _honor _to be here, but I can tell that she is aching to get bumped up to a better district that has tributes that actually win. Through the crowd, I spot Cheren standing by the seventeen year olds. He gives me a small grin before turning back to the stage. I'm feeling lightheaded with nerves now, every heartbeat pounding in my ears. Black gently squeezes my arm, but it does nothing to calm me.

Effie makes her way to the girl's ball, piping "Ladies first!" I've grabbed onto Black's hand now, holding on tight enough restrict his circulation. I'm hoping, desperately hoping that it's not me, it's not me, it's not me.

Effie fishes a name out of the ball and makes her way back to the podium. She clears her throat and reads the name out in a clear voice. My stomach plummets and I nearly faint.

I should have known.

"Hilda White!"

**AN: Holy crap, guys. This is just the first chapter and it's got almost as many words in it as my four-chapter Percy Jackson/LoTR story. I think this has a much better chance of surviving, though. Especially with friends that would rip out my throat if I didn't continue XD**

**If you have any questions on how this is all set up, feel free to ask. For a while, this will be structured similarly to the chapters of the Hunger Games, which means that next chapter will have a massive flashback involving White's childhood and stuff. So if your question involves that, I would appreciate it if you would wait till next chapter. If it involves something else, I will answer…so long as it doesn't involve spoilers ;)**

**Have an awesomesaucetastic day, and REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. You'll get a socially awkward N in the next chapter if you do.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: HEY GUYS, I'M BACK WITH CHAPTER TWO.**

**And just so you know, if you're expecting N to do something dramatic to save White's life or something like with the whole Boy With the Bread story, you're going to be disappointed. Something like that really doesn't work with the storyline, and I considered not having them meet as kids at all, but I decided to let it happen anyway, just in a more entertaining way.**

**Also, Alder drunk. That is all.**

The wind was knocked out of me, the feeling akin to having a high-speed train ramming into my gut. The crowd parted silently before me as I made my way to the stage on stiff, shaky legs. I felt as if I could hardly breathe, and the stage seemed to be stretched miles away and getting farther.

_No. This can't be happening. There must be some mistake. The odds __were __in my favor. This cannot be happening. This _cannot_ be happening._

By some miracle, I made it through the endless crowd and stood at the edge of the stage. Effie seized my hand and pulled me up, saying "Come now, come on," in what I guessed was supposed to be a comforting tone.

She grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face the crowd. By now, the shock had worn off and there was only numbness left. Effie asked for volunteers, but there was silence. I didn't expect anything to happen. The only girl that was of eligible age that was close enough to me to even be considered was Bianca, and the chances of her volunteering were almost laughable.

Effie made her way over to the boy's ball and, after a little consideration, plucked out a piece of paper. She bounced back to the podium and again read the name in a loud, clear voice.

"Ethan Rosel!"

I didn't recognize the name, but I recognized the face it belonged to. He was one of the Seam boys, a small, skinny, underfed kid no older than 12 or 13. My stomach twisted in pity. They boy had probably never had a proper meal in his life, and now he was being thrown from starving in District 12 to starving in an arena with twenty-three other tributes out to murder him. He didn't stand a chance.

Once again, Effie asked for volunteers. This was essentially just an empty routine for our district, where there has never been a volunteer in the entire history of the—

"I volunteer."

Whispers broke out across the square, and Effie looked downright baffled. A volunteer? Impossible. There were no volunteers in District 12, not ever. Not when "tribute" had become synonymous with "corpse."

The skinny boy, Ethan, looked like he was about to collapse from relief. He practically bolted off the stage and ran straight into the arms of one who could only be his mother. The murmuring in the square increased as the owner of the voice mounted the stage in his place.

_NO_. _You've got to be kidding me. _Tall, with long, wild green hair, cap pulled over the eyes I knew to be gray.

_The universe really hates me today_, I thought.

The boy and I had had only one interaction, and I hadn't seen him since. It was about five years ago, when I was still going through my minor rebellious stage. My hair had been an absolute rat's nest in a ponytail, and I was going off all the time into the woods, even though Black's father had warned us against it.

I had been in the woods alone that day, a wild girl, ten years old looking for something to shoot with a bow too large for me. After almost an hour chasing rabbits and squirrels with no luck, I had camped out in a tree at the top of a hill, waiting to see if anything would pass underneath me. There was nothing worth shooting. I had been twisted around, trying to see behind the tree in case something was over there when I heard a _thunk_ right behind my head.

Startled, I had tried to turn my head, but it came to an abrupt halt when I felt a sharp, painful yank on my hair. In an attempt to see what the heck was happening back there, I slowly turned my head again….

…And stared in disbelief at the arrow lodged through my tangled ponytail.

I tried to move my head around and pull myself out, but my hair was such a tangled, dirty, near dreadlock-y mess that the arrow was stuck fast. I started tugging at the tangles, trying to get it loose enough to slip off the end of the arrow.

Black was the only one I could think of who would pull off something as stupid and ridiculous as to shoot my _hair, _of all things. The hole in that theory was that he downright refused to touch a bow after he strung the arrow wrong and it rebounded and hit him in the face. He had tried it again, but then it bounced off the ground, and this time it hit his knee. After that, he had thrown down the bow and vowed never to touch one again. Black's father was a possibility (he was the one who taught me how to shoot in the first place) but he was definitely not the type to pull pranks.

I had almost succeeded in pulling out the worst tangles when an angry voice shouted right below me, "Hey! You're not a weird brown bird-thingy! Give me my arrow back!"

I stared in bewilderment as the green-haired boy, no more than three years older than me, started climbing up my tree. I had never seen him before and I certainly didn't know what he was doing shooting arrows out in what I considered "my" part of the woods.

"Who the heck are you?" I demanded, still struggling to pull out the arrow. By this time, he had almost reached me in the tree.

He completely ignored my question, shouting, "Move over! I'm getting my arrow!" then pushed me over with absolutely no regard for personal space. I yelped as I almost lost my balance, the stuck arrow tugging on my hair painfully as the strange boy started yanking on it, trying to get it out.

I was starting to get angry as he nearly pushed me off my delicate perch again. "Stop pushing! There's no room!" I shouted, grabbing onto the nearest object (which happened to be his arm) as I tried to stay on my branch.

He tried to shake me off. "Stop pushing!" he retorted, pulling mercilessly at the tangles surrounding his arrow.

"Ow! That hurts, idiot!"

"Shut up, I've almost got it!"

"I almost had it before you climbed up here and started shoving me!"

"Aha! Got it!" he shouted in victory, finally pulling the arrow out of the tree (along with a bit too much of my hair) with an almighty yank. He had a few seconds to gloat before he realized that the one thing holding our balance was gone. My eyes widened as my precarious balance faltered and I started to slip, of course dragging him down with me.

"!"

We landed with a loud, painful-sounding _thunk_ on the steep slope, tumbling down the hill with our tangled limbs flailing.

Finally, I landed flat on my back with a thud, dazed. The strange green-haired boy, of course, had to land directly on top of me.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved, just staring with wide eyes at each other. All at once, I noticed the very awkward position we were in, how uncomfortably close our faces were, and that he had very nice gray eyes.

So I did what any sane girl in my situation would do.

"GET _OFF_ ME!" I shrieked, trying, with little success, to push him off, and kind of just flailing as a result.

The boy's expression turned to one of panic. He scrambled backwards on all fours, face flaming, shouting "Sorry, sorry!" Before I could blink, he was full-out sprinting away.

I stared blankly for a moment, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Then, I realized that he had forgotten his arrow, which, miraculously, had remained unbroken through this whole ordeal.

"HEY! WEIRD KID! YOU FORGOT YOUR ARROW!" I shouted, stomping in the general direction that he went. However, my search was in vain, and after calling for about fifteen minutes my already short patience ran out. I stowed the arrow under a bush, intending to return it as soon as I saw the kid again. Then, I found one of my dad's old hunting knives and used it to hack off most of my hair.

My mother and Black's reactions to my new appearance were ones of shock and confusion. For years, they had tried to get me to tell them what caused the change, but I had refused to speak of that incident in the woods ever since it happened. I was still trying to puzzle out who the boy is and why he was hunting in the woods in the first place. I had gone through a dozen theories, from him being a runaway to the whole thing being a crazy hallucination. Even so, I had tried not to think of it, the arrow remained under the bush, and I had never seen the strange green-haired boy again.

That is, until today.

He was going to the Capitol with me and probably would end up trying to kill me.

I guess he's never going to get his arrow back.

Effie seems pleased to finally have a district with something exciting, like a volunteer, going on. "Well, bravo! That's the spirit of the Games! What's your-"

Alder chose this moment to stumble drunkenly to his feet and make his way over to the green-haired guy. He started speaking, but his words were so slurred nobody could make them out. Then, he…_hugged _the guy.

Greenhead, as I've decided to call him until I figure out his name, had an expression on his face that was nothing short of priceless. He stood there stiffly, as if he had no idea what the heck just happened, as Alder solemnly stepped away and patted him on the back. Alder then took one step forward…and promptly fell off the stage, passed out cold.

It was ridiculous, but I was grateful for the opportunity to take a deep breath and gather my thoughts. I gave Greenhead, who still seems to not know quite what to do with himself after Alder's hug, a close look to try to figure out who he is. He was tall, and his hair was a natural shade of green, not like Effie's ridiculous pink wig. He'd also let it grow out even longer than mine, which is quite an accomplishment as I had let it grow back to my normal length after I cut it five years ago. He also seemed rather pale, as if he had spent most of his time indoors. He is also incredibly clean for somebody from District 12.

Effie finally managed to bring the attention back to herself after Alder's little stunt. "Well, dear, what's your name?" she asked Greenhead.

He snapped himself out of the stupor caused by Alder's "embrace," cleared his throat, and answered, "N Harmonia."

The whispers in the square increased, as did my curiosity. Here I was thinking that _I _had it bad in the name department. Who the heck was this guy with the funny name that I had never seen since the awkward situation in the woods?

The mayor took the stand again and started reading the long, dull Treaty of Treason, but I stopped listening. It was always the same thing every year, and I had more interesting things to think about. Like this mystery guy N. Was that seriously his name? _N?_ It seemed kind of cruel of his parents, giving their kid a single letter for a name. I search the crowd for someone who could possibly be his mother or father, but nobody else in District 12 had green hair. There were a couple blues and a pink here and there, but no green. One of my old theories popped into my head again, and I wondered if N even lived in District 12 at all. I'd never seen him in school or anything, only in the woods.

Finally, the mayor finished reading and motioned for us to shake hands. I obliged, careful to avoid meeting his eyes, and out of the corner of my eye I could see he was doing the same. He even had a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

_O-ho._ So maybe he did remember me.

We turned back to face the crowd as the anthem played, keeping a careful distance from each other and doing our best to pretend the other did not exist. The instant the anthem ended, we were surrounded by Peacekeepers and marched into the Justice building, then led into separate rooms and left alone.

It was one of the nicest rooms I had been in, with the plush carpets and the velvet seats. I ran my hands over the soft fabric to calm myself as I prepared for the next hour of saying goodbye to family and friends.

As I expected, my mother came in first. Even with the distance that had formed between us over the years, when she opened her arms for a hug I did not hesitate to go into them, my chest feeling tight as I struggled not to tear up.

After a few moments, she pulled away and gripped my shoulders, looking me directly in the eye. "Now listen, White. You can bring one thing, a token from home, with you into the arena. Will you take this?" She carefully pulled a leather cord out of her pocket with a strange black orb dangling off it.

I frowned as I took it from her. "Where did you get this?"

"It's another family heirloom, like your dress," she smiled sadly as she took it from me and put it around my neck. "It's supposed to be good luck. I'll feel better if you keep it with you."

I was in serious danger of crying now, but I knew that it wasn't an option. There would be cameras swarming at the train station. So, I swallowed thickly and threw myself into another hug, hanging on as tight as I could. "Please, even if the worst happens, you won't leave again, will you? I'll never forgive myself if-"

"Oh, honey, don't worry about me," she said gently. "But you have to promise you'll do your best, okay? I know you can do it."

"Mom…"

The Peacekeeper opened the door and told us that time was up. She crushed me in another hug, then whispered, "I believe in you, honey," before walking out the door and leaving me alone. Just out the crack of the door, I managed to glimpse two women walking down the hallway, one with long pink hair and the other with yellow. I was a little surprised when I recognized them. Their names were Anetha…Athena?…Anthea and Concordia, that's it. They ran a small Pokemon care business, for miners to take Pokemon when they are injured in the mines. They could only have been here to visit N, but why? I'd never seen any connection between them and they looked way too young for one of them to be his mother.

To take my mind off things, I looked down at the strange black orb hanging off my neck that was supposedly a good luck charm. For some reason, it seemed like it was emanating some sort of ancient power that, in all honesty, kind of creeped me out. Hesitantly, I reached up a hand and touched it.

A bolt of blue lightning seemed to flash across my vision, accompanied by a deafening roar that tore through my ears. I dropped it in alarm, whirling my head side to side as I tried to find the source, but the strange sensation was gone almost as soon as it came. Cautiously, I brushed my finger across the dark orb again and experienced a strange thrill of power coursing through me, though much less strong than before.

At that moment, Black and Cheren walked in. I did my best to act like nothing had just happened, but I still felt a little shaky.

"Just so you know, Bianca is a sobbing mess. She's coming in next, so be prepared." Cheren said, breaking the silence.

"Oh. Well, um, thanks for letting me know," I muttered. I had no idea how I was supposed to comfort a hysterical Bianca when I was about to be shipped to what will probably be my death, but I was grateful for the heads-up.

Black reached over and put a hand on my shoulder. "You're going to come back, you hear?" he said fiercely. I looked up, startled. He shook me a little, making me look him directly in the eye. "_Listen to me. _You can hunt. You're fast, you're strong, you're brave, and _you're going to come back._ I don't care how nice you say you are, I know you've got steel in you and I know you can put it to good use."

"Black's right, White," Cheren said coolly. "You've got all the skills you need to survive. You're excellent with a bow. If you can just get your hands on one, you'll have this thing in the bag."

"Guys…" I started, voice almost breaking. I swallowed and started again. "Guys, there's no guarantee there'll be a bow. Half the guys in there are two or three times my size, and the girls could probably kill me eight different ways with their bare hands, not to mention there's twenty-four of us. Only one can come out."

"Well, you're going to be that one," Black said fiercely.

Cheren nodded once in agreement, then added, "There's something else I want to…ah…warn you about. I think N's already figured it out but…"

"Warn me about what?" I asked warily.

"Alder."

I burst into laughter. "Cheren, Alder's just a crazy drunk-"

"Not to mention your mentor, and your _only_ connection to the outside world. And…well…there's another reason you should probably keep Alder…ah…sober." Cheren coughed, seeming slightly uncomfortable.

Black stared at Cheren with his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Well, what are you getting at?"

"You know how I sometimes help out the bartender in the Hob sometimes?"

I frowned. "Yeah, you mentioned that a few times. What about it?"

"Well, it also happens to be Alder's favorite place to go…drink. Guess who gets to drag him home every time he ends up near or completely passed out drunk."

"You…?" I didn't quite see where he was going with this.

"Yes. Me." Cheren seemed to be having trouble keeping his face straight. "And I must warn you that Alder can be a very…um…" he coughed, suddenly uncomfortable, "_cuddly _drunk."

Black and I stared at Cheren with our mouths opened in a small "o" of understanding, then suddenly burst out laughing at the onslaught of mental images. Cheren narrowed his eyes. "I'm serious. Keep him sober enough to help you and not…you know."

I snorted, then grinned at him and said, "I'll be sure to keep that on my mind. And don't worry about me, guys. I promise I'll try my hardest, okay?"

Black looked a little relieved and Cheren quickly added, "Don't worry about your mom. We'll take care of her for you."

I smiled gratefully at them, and by the time the Peacekeepers ushered them away I was feeling a lot better. Even though I was probably going to die, Black and Cheren somehow managed to make the outlook seem a little less bleak. They were right, of course, I did have a lot of skills. Even the brute strength of a Career couldn't match the long-distance advantage having a bow would give me.

Suddenly, the door burst open a third time with a hysterical Bianca.

"_WHIIIIIIIIIIIIITE!" _she wailed, throwing herself into my arms and sobbing hysterically. Not really knowing what to do, I patted her on the back awkwardly until she managed to gain control of herself. When she finally did, she seized my shoulders and started shaking me back and forth.

"You gotta promise me you'll come back, okay? You've got to promise that you'll do your best and you won't get killed and…and...just _really really try, _okay?" she said tearfully, obviously trying very hard not to break down into sobs again.

"Um…I'll do my best," I said not really sure how to handle the situation.

"No, you've gotta promise me!" she insisted. "Promise you won't give up and you'll become the very best, okay? A real pinky promise," she said, giving me her best pair of large, teary puppy eyes.

I sighed wearily. "Cross my heart and hope to fly and stick a cupcake in my eye," I said dutifully, repeating the age-old swear from our childhood as I linked my little finger with hers and gave it a little shake.

Bianca smiled shakily. "Now you _have _to come back. You can't break a pinky promise."

"You're right. I guess I'm stuck now," I agreed, not having the heart to point out that the agreement was that I try my best, not necessarily to come back. I was slowly becoming more optimistic about my chances, though, and I was grateful to my friends for supporting me.

Bianca and I hugged once more, and then the Peacekeeper came and told us that it was time for her to go. All too soon, it was time to go and board the train.

The ride from the Justice building to the train is relatively short. As soon as we arrived, I could see that I have been right not to cry. The station was swarming with camera crews, so I trained my face into an indifferent mask. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that N had done the same.

We had to stand in the doorway for a few minutes for the cameras to gobble up our images and stream them across the country, then, finally, the doors closed and the train started moving immediately.

Let the journey begin.

**BLACK USED TO BE A HUNTER… (Oh God shoot me now). Make ALL of the references!**

**If you can tell me where White and Bianca's pinky swear came from, you just got 20% cooler.**

**Until Chapter 3! THANKS SO MUCH TO MY BETAS  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: So in writing this chapter, I discovered three things. 1.) If I say something's going to be finished in a week, it'll be finished in about a month instead. 2.) Most of this chapter is filler of some sort. 3.) I hate filler.**

**With that in mind, ONWARD HO.**

The train was just so dang _fancy._

Growing up in District 12, where we were lucky to get a few hours of electricity in the evenings, anything above running water was considered out of our league for those of us living in the Seam. The Justice Building, with its plush carpets and velvet couches, was fit for a king by our standards. Which meant that, in comparison, the train was pretty much fit for the gods.

Effie led me into my room, which was complete with a dresser full of clothes, a shower, and a large, comfortable bed. She informed me that everything was at my disposal, and that dinner was in an hour, so be ready.

I'd never taken a warm shower before, so I took care of that first. After I had dried myself and gotten dressed, I remembered the necklace my mother had given me. I picked it up and looked at it closely. It was definitely very, very old, and didn't really seem to be made of any kind of stone that I knew of. I hesitantly poked it with the bare tip of my finger, and felt only a faint tremor of the strange power I'd experienced earlier.

"Huh," I muttered, then lifted it over my head and put it on. The weird power coming off it did unsettle me a bit, but it was one of the only things I had left of home, so I didn't intend to get rid of it.

Effie came to collect me for dinner, which was good because at that point I was starving. I followed her to the fancy dining room car, where N was already seated and waiting for us.

"Where's Alder?" Effie asked brightly. How that woman was so peppy all the time was a mystery to me.

N looked a little uncomfortable at the mention of our mentor. He coughed awkwardly and said "Last I saw, he said he was going to take a nap."

"Well, it has been an exhausting day," Effie said cheerfully. I couldn't help but notice she seemed a little relieved at Alder's absence, and I couldn't really blame her.

Dinner came in courses, and even though Effie constantly said to save room I ended up stuffing myself. I'd never had this much food all at the same time, especially food that I didn't have to put on the table myself.

Not to mention that it was _really_ good food.

However, about halfway through the meal I noticed that N was _staring. _Like, not just glancing over a bit too often, he was openly staring, and a bit south of my face too. I flushed a bit and crossed my arms over my chest, trying to look around the room while avoiding a certain green-haired fellow's gaze.

Effie, bless her heart, seemed to notice the sudden appearance of a large amount of awkward in the room and broke the silence. "Well, at least you two have some decent table manners. The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion."

I decided right then, just to spite her, to eat the rest of the meal with my hands. The pair last year had probably never had a decent meal in their lives, so when they actually had food, not to mention this much of it, table manners were probably the last thing on their minds. Black's mother and my own were raised in the better part of District 12 and had taught us basic table manners, so yes, I could handle a fork and knife. I had no idea what N's excuse was. I remembered those two women, Anthea and Concordia, and wondered if they had raised him. However, if that was the case, why would he be hunting in the woods at all? He probably had enough to eat as it was…

I pushed the thoughts out of my head and enjoyed the look on Effie's face as I dug into the rest of the meal with bare hands. Then, I wiped my hands on the tablecloth, internally grinning at the disgusted look she gave me and the amused one from N. At least he's stopped staring, though he kept sneaking glances, which still annoyed me.

Finally, after we finished eating we went into another compartment to watch the other Reapings across Panem. I paid close attention, knowing that these people would be my future competition. Even so, only a few stood out in my mind. There was the monstrous boy that lunged forward to volunteer from District 2. There was also unusual amount of redheaded Careers, that seemed a little weird. Probably the one that stuck out most in my mind, however, was a young girl, probably no more than 12, whose name was chosen in District 11. She had coffee colored skin and a huge amount of deep purple hair, and when volunteers were called you could only hear wind. Nobody volunteers in the poorer districts, and even family loyalty only went so far. What N did was a radical thing, especially since he probably didn't even know the boy.

I couldn't help but think that there was definitely something fishy going on with N volunteering. The fact that I had never seen him in school and only in the woods was suspicious enough to begin with, not to mention the two women, Anthea and Concordia, who had come to visit him. I guessed that they were probably raising him or in some way related to him, but that didn't fit either. They lived in the nicer part of town, so why would he be hunting? He probably had plenty to eat.

Well, whatever it was, I planned to get some answers out of him as soon as I had the chance.

Finally, we were watching our own Reaping. Effie was distraught over the state of her wig. "Really now, your mentor should learn something about presentation," she grumbled stonily.

I snorted, remembering Cheren's warning and Alder's "embrace" on the stage. Effie made it sound like it was a problem that could be fixed with a few pointers from her. "He's drunk. He's _always_ drunk."

"Well, I think that's something that needs to be fixed," N said darkly, not taking his eyes off the now-blank television screen. Effie nodded in agreement.

"It certainly does, _especially_ since he's going to be your one lifeline to the outside world when you're in the arena. He's the one who dictates the sponsor gifts, which can mean your life or death," she said, giving me a pointed look.

Right on cue, Alder came stumbling in, reeking of alcohol. In a slurred voice, he asked "I miss something?" before vomiting all over the expensive carpet and falling into the mess.

"So laugh away!" Effie said, her voice noticeably going higher from disgust and revulsion. She hopped around the pool of vomit and fled the room, leaving N and I to deal with a very drunk Alder.

I grimaced and edged around the vile stuff from his stomach, considering just calling some Capitol servants to clean him up. I glanced over to see what N planned to do. He shook his head with a sigh and said, "Let's get him back to his room, then let the Capitol people take it from there."

I nodded in agreement, then grabbed one of Alder's arms to haul him up. One thing I really didn't want to do was strip him down and wash the vomit out of…yeah no. I stopped there. I made a face, then, with N's help, dragged Alder back to his room and deposited him in the shower, pressing a button to summon servants to take care of him. Finally, we were alone together in the corridor, walking back to our rooms. _Perfect._

As we approached our rooms, I turned on him and gave him an accusing glare. "All right, buddy. I've got some questions for you that need answering."

N looked a little alarmed at the sudden turn of events. "…What kind of questions?" he asked cautiously.

I stepped in closer, looking straight up at him (why did he have to be so freaking tall?) with narrowed eyes. "Why did you volunteer?" I demanded.

N drew himself up, doing his best to look important. "I felt very confident I could win," he said simply.

"Please. You didn't even know the kid. Why would you risk your life? You realize that, while you may be the freaking _tallest_, most of those kids in the Career districts probably still have a good fifty pounds on you and would be more than happy to kill you."

"That's where you're wrong," N made a move like he was going to move past me. I moved in turn to block him.

"Is that so?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Well, I know something funny is going on, and I'm going to find out what it is," I said threateningly, then spun around and stomped down the hall towards my room.

"And what if I kill you first?"

I froze at the threat. Not because N particularly scared me, but more because it pretty much proved that something fishy was going on, and he did not want me to know about it. Slowly, I turned around and gave him a cocky grin. "Good luck with that, Greenhead," I said, then spun around and slammed the door to my room shut. After about a second, I opened it again and shouted, "And don't stare at my chest, you perv!" before slamming it for the second time and flopping down on my bed.

I was still fuming at N, for some reason. The argument hadn't even been that heated, but he just seemed to set me off. Maybe it was the calm, collected, smug attitude, like he was some villain in one of those stupid storybooks that sat, watching, while everything went according to plan.

No, wait, scratch that. The circumstances seemed more like he was the one _carrying out_ the plans, and had some crazy notion that everything was going to go perfectly and everything would fall into place. Like him winning the Games and me dying. There's probably some other death and stuff going on there, but I didn't plan on letting it get that far.

Oh, no. I was going to uncover what was going on and stop it. _Especially_ if it was something that would potentially cause problems for my family and friends back in District 12. I would never forgive him if that were the case.

I turned over in my bed, overcome with a sudden wave of homesickness and loneliness. I wanted to be able to talk to someone about all this. I didn't like the feeling that I was completely on my own. Back at home, whenever something needed to be figured out I almost always went to Cheren, who was the typical smart guy of our friend group. I could entrust Bianca with almost all of my secrets. And Black…Black was practically my brother. We trusted each other with our lives.

Now, here I was, probably headed to my death, and I had nobody to turn to. I would need to find some allies fast if I wanted to get through this without losing both my sanity and my life. So far, my only choices were Effie, N, and Alder. I don't know if I could stand more than a few minutes of Effie's insane peppiness, and N…I don't even want to go there. Which meant my only option was to get Alder off the vodka and keep him coherent enough to be of some sort of help.

Trying to swallow the rest of my homesickness, I tossed and turned a few more times before falling into an uneasy sleep.

I awoke the next morning to Effie rapping obnoxiously on the door, telling me to get ready for another "big, big, big day!" I groaned some sort of semi-coherent response as I rolled out of bed and fell with a muffled thump to the ground. Normally I can get up and go in the mornings, but overall exhaustion from the past day has left me practically a zombie.

When I finally stumbled into the dining room, bleary and yawning, everyone else was already there, of course. Effie brushed past me muttering choice words into her cup of coffee as Alder chuckled in the background. I'm assuming he offended her with his "manners".

I pulled up a seat and slumped into it, immediately being assaulted by an enormous amount of food. I didn't wait a second to start shoveling it all down, and only when my stomach felt like bursting did I sit back and look around at my table fellows.

N was still eating, handling a fork and knife with almost by-the-book manners. Alder was also eating still, though he kept thinning his cranberry juice with some kind of clear liquid I'm assuming is some kind of spirit. I grimaced as I remembered my decision from last night. Getting him off the booze is going to be quite the chore, so I probably should get started now before he's completely hammered.

I cleared my throat, effectively getting the attention of those at the table. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table and tucking my hands under my chin. "So. You're our mentor. What's your advice?"

Alder squinted at me for a moment before taking another swig of his juice. Alcohol. Thing. "Here's my advice," he said, tossing a grape into his mouth. "Stay alive."

He turned back to his food and started downing some more of the liquor. I glanced over and saw with some surprise that N's eyes had hardened considerably. "Yes, that's great, very funny," he growled, then lashed out, sending Alder's liquor and sending it to shatter on the floor. "Only not to me."

"To us," I corrected, giving N a sharp look, which he ignored.

Alder looked like he was about to punch N, but somehow gained control of himself and looked us over with interested eyes. "Well, I certainly hope that this means I got a pair of fighters this year. That was premium cake vodka you just knocked over, so you'd better have something to show for it."

I took this as a signal to show off, so I seized a knife from the table, got a good grip on it, and threw it across the room. I was really just hoping for a good solid stick, seeing as I only knew a little something about throwing knives, but it lodged in a seam between two panels, making me look a lot better than I really was.

Alder's interest was definitely piqued now. "Stand over there, both of you," he said, gesturing to the middle of the compartment. N and I both obeyed, and Alder circled us, scrutinizing and poking and checking our muscles. When his inspection was finished, he stood across from us, a spark of excitement in his eyes. "Well, you're not entirely hopeless, after all strength isn't everything, and you'll be attractive enough when the stylists get ahold of you…" he muttered, eyes sparkling. He snapped his fingers and said, "All right, I'll make you a deal. Don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you. However, you'll have to do exactly as I say. Take it or leave it."

N opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. "Deal," I said firmly. It may not be much, but it was far more than what we had ten minutes ago. Where we were going, we were going to need all the help we could get.

"So help us," N started, getting straight down to business. "When we get into the arena, what's the best strategy for-"

Alder cut him off with a wave of his hand. "One thing at a time. In a few minutes, we're going to be pulling into the train station, where you'll be handed off to your stylists. You may not like what they do to you, but no matter what, don't resist."

"But—"

"No buts," Alder snapped, then gathered up his liquor and exited the room. N and I just kind of stood there awkwardly until the car went dark, making me yelp in surprise.

"We're in the tunnel leading to the Capitol," N's quiet voice came somewhere to the right of me.

I scowled, even though I knew he couldn't see it. "I knew that." I heard him snort and decided not to talk to him as punishment for laughing at me. I did, of course, already know about the tunnels leading to the Capitol. The city was surrounded by mountains, and that geographical advantage was part of the reason the districts lost in the rebellion.

After standing in silence for a few minutes, then the lights came back on. I couldn't help myself and ran over to the nearest window to gape at the shining city in front of me. The cameras and informational videos certainly hadn't lied about its grandeur, and if anything they had been unable to capture the magnificence of the shining buildings in a rainbow of hues that rise glittering into the sky. I could see crowds of people in the street, with their bizarre hair and faces and all their artificial colors. With his bright green hair, N would fit right in, I thought, snickering.

I could see people pointing excitedly as they recognize the tribute train as it rolled into the station. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw N pull away from the window, but I held my ground, even waving a bit at the gathered crowds. In my opinion, it was never too early to try and pull in sponsors.

**AN: YEAH IT'S FINALLY FINISHED. Oh, and next chapter you get to meet the stylists (which I've been looking forward to oh so much) and you get to see what their costumes will be. Anyone who can correctly guess either will get and honorable mention next chapter and some imaginary cake vodka. (There's a loooong story and lots of crack behind the cake vodka. I may or may not explain later.)**


End file.
